


Two Year Detour

by crediniaeth



Series: Wholocktuary [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Sanctuary (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-12
Updated: 2010-09-12
Packaged: 2017-10-11 16:56:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crediniaeth/pseuds/crediniaeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's… <i>Sherlock Holmes</i>? How can <i>he</i> possibly be Sherlock Holmes? He's… he's fictional!"</p><p>Rory looks at The Doctor like he's a fish out of water. He watches as The Doctor carries John's feet while Sherlock has his own arms tucked under John's shoulders. They're making their way to the medbay, with the Ponds following behind, bringing along Rory's dumbfounded amazement and Amy's expounding amusement.</p><p>"Who do you think gave Mister Conan Doyle the story, eh?" The Doctor chuckles to himself. "I shouldn't be the only one who has a book they can't read for fear of spoilers."</p><p>"He thinks it should be family tradition," Sherlock says with a sigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Year Detour

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [All Work And No Play](http://archiveofourown.org/works/107244) (crossover with _Sherlock_, _Sanctuary_, and _Doctor Who_). Betaed by [Jen](http://caffrey.livejournal.com).

“He’s… _Sherlock Holmes_? How can _he_ possibly be Sherlock Holmes? He’s… he’s fictional!”

Rory looks at The Doctor like he’s a fish out of water. He watches as The Doctor carries John’s feet while Sherlock has his own arms tucked under John’s shoulders. They’re making their way to the medbay, with the Ponds following behind, bringing along Rory’s dumbfounded amazement and Amy’s expounding amusement.

“Who do you think gave Mister Conan Doyle the story, eh?” The Doctor chuckles to himself. “I shouldn’t be the only one who has a book they can’t read for fear of spoilers.”

“He thinks it should be family tradition,” Sherlock says with a sigh.

Amy, who has been following this bizarre parade, stands inside the medbay door and looks at Sherlock as they lay John on the biobed. “Have you? Y’know… read any?”

Sherlock rolls his eyes at her. “No. That would be absurd.”

“But you couldn’t have survived this long without at least sneaking a peek? Or someone at least saying _something_ about it.”

Sherlock pointedly ignores her to observe The Doctor’s treatment of John. A few waves of the Sonic Screwdriver and a few wiggles of The Doctor’s eyebrows later, he looks up at Sherlock. “He’ll be fine. Right as rain in five.” He squints. “Who _is_this, Sherlock? I’ve never known you to have… someone in tow.”

“He’s not _someone_, father. This is John. Dr. John Watson. My… friend.”

The Doctor raises his arms and hugs Sherlock. “It’s him! Oh… this is fantastic!”

Sherlock takes the demonstration of affection as well as one would enjoy stepping on a rusty nail. “You really don’t have to do this. Honestly, you really don’t.”

Being unable to hold it in any longer, Amy laughs. “Oh, this is priceless!”

Amy’s laugh seems to bring John back, for which Sherlock is eternally grateful. “Ugh… please tell me that the semtex vest was a part of the dream too?”

“Unfortunately not, but we’re safe. Moriarty can’t get to us here,” Sherlock replies, his tone of voice gone the slightest bit more… soft. “Nothing can penetrate the TARDIS’ energy shield. We’ll be fine.”

John holds his head. “TARDIS… what the bloody hell is a TARDIS?” He looks around. “And what is all this? And who are they? And when did you suddenly generate a father? I thought you and Mycroft grew from a petri dish!”

Sherlock pinches the bridge of his nose. “More of a… one night stand that lasted about… five years? Would you say that’s about right, Doctor?”

For once in this regeneration’s existence, The Doctor is speechless. Amy breaks the silence. “Did you snog someone in the shrubbery before me, Doctor?”

“Oi!” Rory holds up his left hand. “MARRIED, Amy.”

“She’s right, though.”

Everyone turns and looks at The Doctor. “That two year detour?”

Amy’s face goes blank.

“It was the engines! Leadworth one moment, London the next. Landing in front of the lab of Helen Magnus.”

“Helen Magnus…” John starts, effectively cutting off Amy’s chance to be incensed. “I remember reading about her when I was at Bart’s. Geneticist, right?”

“Teratologist, to be more accurate,” Sherlock says. “Study of the abnormal development of living things.”

“She dropped out of the medical community about, what, 15, 20 years ago?”

“She decided to pursue other facets of her work outside the medical field.”

“Like what?”

“Chasing monsters,” The Doctor interjected. “The big creepy crawlies that live under your bed. The abnormals of Earth. I became… _fascinated_. With her work. After the TARDIS decided it needed a bit more time in one place.”

“Of course you would,” Amy said, the curt tone of her voice betraying her obviously hurt feelings.

“Mycroft was already in primary school,” Sherlock continues. “And The Doctor promised her the Universe and all its abnormalities, while still having her home in time for tea.”

John nods his head slightly. “Tea, and apparently a new brother for him in tow.”

“Precisely. I’m sure that if we work at it hard enough, we could find my nursery in this maze.”

“Two doors past the tennis courts on the right.”

They all turn to look at Rory. He returns their stares with a shrug. “I got lost one day, and a child-sized lab island complete with extractor fan would tend to stick in one’s mind.”

Sherlock smiles, but only for a moment. He turns to The Doctor. “Whereas I’m sure that you’re enjoying this family reunion, Father, I think it would be best to get John back to Baker Street.”

“Right, of course, whatever you say.” The Doctor flits out of the medbay, leaving Sherlock and Rory to help John off the bed and back toward the console room.

Amy, still in the mood to sulk, follows behind. “So, your mum. She’s like The Doctor, only without the time-traveley bits.”

“Essentially.”

“Actually, she’s a bit like Jack,” The Doctor offers after everyone reaches the console room, Sherlock depositing John on the console’s sofa. “Only you… haven’t met him. Um… forget I said anything.”

“Oh no, you don’t get off that easy,” Amy says. “Not after just forgetting to mention you had a sprog. Now come on. Who’s Jack?”

“Jack Harkness. He likes to consider me as a… nephew or some other sort of biological familial.” Sherlock says with a groan. “All swish and shiny teeth. Mycroft is still beating off his rag-tag team of misfits. He’d have them by the scruff of the neck if they hadn’t relocated to America and out of his ‘technical’ jurisdiction.”

“Oh, Sherlock, behave. He means well.”

“He destroyed half of downtown Cardiff, Father!”

“Okay, okay, you can stop the family bickering now,” John says, still cradling his head. With his free hand, he waves it toward the TARDIS console. “I’d still like to know what… _this_ is.”

Sherlock turns to face the glowing column. “It’s the TARDIS. A living spaceship that doubles as a time machine. She’s very… unique.”

“That she is.” The Doctor smiles at Sherlock before throwing the lever and kicking the TARDIS into flight mode.

A few pitches and rolls later, the TARDIS materializes in Sherlock and John’s living room, causing all of their notes and papers from the Moriarty case to go flying about the flat. The TARDIS door opens and Sherlock exits first, leaving John to follow behind. “I know he won’t say anything, but thank you. For showing up when you did. I don’t think we would have gotten out of that mess without some sort of assistance.”

The Doctor smiles. “It was my pleasure, John. You wouldn’t happen to have your mobile on you, would you?”

Despite Moriarty’s manhandling of him, John is surprised to find his mobile in his pocket. He hands it to The Doctor, who takes it and touches the Sonic Screwdriver to it. After a few high pitched whines, he returns it to John. “There. Direct line to the TARDIS. And Helen’s complex in Canada. So you don’t resort to defaming cliffsides to get our attention.”

John is in awe. “Thank you. I mean, I don’t know when we’ll use it, but thank you.”

“I should be the one thanking you. Knowing that someone is on his side… well, it’ll take a load off Helen’s mind. Mine too.” The Doctor extends his hand, which John takes and shakes briefly before releasing. “Well, time to be off, then. Amy! Rory! Where to next?”

The TARDIS door shuts as the wind starts and the whirring begins and it’s only a few seconds later that the flat is a lot less crowded but more disorganized than ever.

John looks into the kitchen and sees Sherlock staring out through the tiny window overlooking the alley. “Was that hard for you?”

“I don’t know what you mean, John.”

When John realizes that he’s not going to get any more from Sherlock tonight, he moves toward the staircase. “We’re going to want to get in touch with Lestrade. Let him know that we know a bit more about Moriarty.”

Sherlock grunts.

“Well, right then. Good night, Sherlock.”

John has his foot set on the second step when Sherlock speaks. “Not hard, just tiresome.”

John returns to the kitchen doorway and waits for Sherlock to continue.

“Father is… extremely changeable. Never know what face he’ll be wearing the next time you see him.”

A pointed look. “Literally.”

“I see… you’ll have to explain that to me at some point.”

“At some point.”

“But not tonight.”

“No, not tonight, John.”

“Goodnight, Sherlock.”

“Goodnight.”


End file.
